There are days when you wake up and your sinuses are kicking the shit out of you with little mini combat boots between your eyes and you think, "Oh, but if I only could make it not hurt, if only I could make those things which make my eyes water and my nose stuff up not bloom..." And then you have a realization...Voila! And you think, "I should take me some of that there Claritin-D, it's on that there television ad and promises me that I'll feel good as gold." And you gobble down a little white pill and then...a l l d a y s t a r t s d r a a a a g g g g i n n n g g g. And pretty soon you think, "Well, freakin' devil bunnies, my nose is clear but my life, it is in slo-mo." Ever have one of those days? I'm still recovering from my Claritin hangover.
As of today, I have counted four, four close friends, acquaintances, or family members who have given birth in the past week...so welcome to the world William Marcus and Emily Jane and Conner Michael and Alexander Joseph. But I'm wondering with four births in one week...what was happening 9 months ago that I missed...what party were these folks at...and what was in the water that was being consumed? Hmmm...
Three more weeks of being referred to as Professor. Three more weeks of having 2/3 of the class stare at me with looks of disbelief and/or apathy as I wax poetic about feminine images of God and the works of Mary Daly and Carter Heyward and Rosemary Radford Ruether. I think I'm ready for this gig to be over. Mostly, because I feel as if I am not gifted as a teacher, and I constantly feel inadequate, as if I'm not giving them enough as if we're not covering enough ground, as if there are miles and miles and miles of more ideas to mention and I'm doing the world of feminist theology a diservice by not being more eloquent. Oh forgive me, my erudite sisters.
R. found a yummy new creamer for our coffee today...coconut! How happy am I?